Veiled Identity
by LysPotter
Summary: James Potter had a sister. His sister had a husband, Sirius Black. They had a daughter, born three months before Halloween 1981. An old friend dropped by to visit after. Now she's raising Ashley, who's changed. Who is she now? BZOC, DMHG, SSNB, HPGW, SBOC
1. It'll All Be All Right

_**Veiled Identity**_

**Disclaimer:** This still hasn't gone away, no matter how I glare at it. The truth of the matter is, darn everything, if I owned Harry Potter, Sirius would not have died, and Harry wouldn't have got so broody and self-satisfied in HBP. I don't care if it's logical, I don't think it is. I have hope for Sirius though. Until then, he is my own private prisoner. I get to make him do all kinds of crazy stuff like marry James's nonexistent sister! Woo! Okay, right. I don't own Harry Potter, so please don't sue me. I'm throwing out stuff and I'd probably give you what you wanted for free!

**Summary: **James Potter had a sister. His sister had a husband. That husband was Sirius Black. Meghan and Sirius Black had a daughter. That daughter was born three months before the Godric's Hollow attack. Sirius Black was carted off to Azkaban. Meghan Black was crying her eyes out in her brother's destroyed home, crying for her destroyed family with her daughter on her lap when an old friend dropped in for a visit.

Now, this old friend is stuck raising young Ashley Marie Black. But who will Ashley become? Her environment has changed. Her circumstances have changed. Her _parents_ have changed. Who is she? Who will she be? This is her story. (BZxOC, DMxGW, NMxSS, HPxHG, SBxOC)

**Rating: **T+ for themes; physical, sexual, and psychological abuse; possibly language

**Warnings for this chapter: **A lot of mention and reference to above forms of abuse

**Author's note** (please read, there's a reason it's in Bold, Underlined Caps):

**IF NO ONE KNOWS WHO ASHLEY IS, READ THE NOTE AT THE BOTTOM. TRULY I HOPE I AM NOT THAT BAD AT INTRODUCTIONS!**

Chapter One: **It'll All Be All Right**, _in which someone very special joins a very special family and begins a very special life_

**N**arcissa Liesel Black-Malfoy woke blearily, sitting up as she wiped the sleep from her azure eyes. She looked into the cold gray eyes of her husband, Lucius Theodore Malfoy with only a slight flinch, to her credit. "Very good," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Good morning, Narcy. It's very kind of you to join me and your new daughter." Her eyes widened as he tucked a black-haired infant into her arms. "Meet Ashley Malfoy, formerly Ashley Marie Black. I give you leave to give the brat any middle name you want to, so long as you change it," he said flippantly.

"B—but—" She looked at her ruthless, uncaring husband with dazed eyes. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was Lucius pulling her over to talk to her.

"Ah, you wish to know what happened to the young lady's mother, do you?" he asked, his voice falsely sweet. "Well, to make a long story pretty short, you've killed her."

Narcissa nearly dropped the infant. Ashley was already half an orphan. Her father, Sirius Black, had been carted off to Azkaban Prison for something he didn't do, something Lucius had gloated over for the past two days. She had been living with her mother Meghan Potter-Black since the deaths of James and Lily Potter.

Narcissa had been good friends with Meghan Potter in school. She was pretty sure she would have remembered killing her. She would have remembered killing anyone. Hell, she would have remembered killing the rat in the dungeons if she'd done it. So she definitely would have remembered killing the pretty black-haired woman who called her "Liesel" and had always given her spontaneous hugs.

"Oh, you don't remember?" Lucius said innocently. Far too innocently, Narcissa knew. "You don't remember going to the Potter house and finding Ms. Black there? You don't remember dueling her? You don't remember shooting spell after spell—?" he trailed off.

"You know I don't," she said coldly. _Meg._ Her heart fell. _It's not right. How can he make me kill my best girl friend?_ She turned her head away, looking at the sleeping baby in her arms. Ashley looked so much like her parents. She had Sirius's eye-shape, and his long, curling eyelashes (so often completely wasted on males), but she had Meghan's eyebrows, and her nose and mouth. She lightly touched Ashley's soft, downy black hair, which was already curly, totally different from her mother and father. Ashley would be her own person. And as much as Narcissa hated to admit it, she wanted to help her. He smirked.

"Well, my dear, you wouldn't want to leave this delightful child without a home, would you?" he asked, running a cool finger down the side of the child's face. She shivered in her sleep. Narcissa's arms tightened reflexively around the little girl. She didn't want her monster of a husband touching her friend's daughter.

When she gave no answer, Lucius's eyes grew stony. "Narcissa, you are going to take this child and you are going to raise her as my daughter. She won't know who she really is. It is my chance to strike one last blow at the Light Side. Imagine, one of the last Potters, a Death Eater." He smirked. "You haven't been out at all recently, have you?" She watched him. He whirled and slapped her across the face. "Answer me, wench!" he roared. The baby woke.

"Not for seven months now, sir," she said softly, staring at the floor. She didn't want to show what she was feeling, because she knew he would only punish her the worse for it. He knew. He knew how long it had been, because he was the reason it had been that long. She also knew what he was planning. If she hadn't been seen in public for seven months, she could have been around three months pregnant, if you took Draco as a rule of thumb.

"Very good," he said, immediately calm. "We shall simply say you were pregnant, but you wanted it to be a surprise. The black hair is from your family, obviously, and her eyes are somewhere between gray and blue. Plausible. She was born…August 28th. That makes her about the same age, but not the same as her real birthday. We'll need to write out a birth certificate…We'll need a week or so before we're ready—" He realized his wife was still sitting there with the child in her arms. "Well, get out, and take that sniveling brat with you!" Young Ashley began to cry. Narcissa, wanting to spare her new child her husband's attentions for the moment, rushed out of the room and down the hall. She ran helter-skelter through the huge manor, looking for the room where Draco was playing.

She burst into the nursery, where her own seventeen-month-old son sat playing with his toys. "Oh, Draco," she murmured as she rocked the squalling infant. She began to sing an old lullaby, quieting the little girl until she fell asleep in her arms. _Lucius, you bastard,_ she thought to herself. _What have you gotten me into, this time?_

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Narcissa held Ashley's tiny hand tight in her own as she walked the little girl to the sitting room, where her godfather Severus Snape waited. It was the first time Ashley would truly meet her godfather, and the little two-year-old was practically trembling with the excitement she could feel rolling off her mother.

The dark-haired man was sitting there with an enthusiastic Draco sitting next to him, avidly turning pages as he attempted to read Severus his favorite book, _Goodnight Moon_. Narcissa grinned as she realized he was actually doing a rather good job of it and then resolved to start reading a different book at bedtime.

"Hello," Severus said gently to the dark-haired child. "You must be Ashley," he beckoned to her. "I'm your Uncle Severus."

The tiny girl toddled over to him. "Hewwo, Unc' Sevewus," she said dutifully. Severus looked closer at the little child and his eyebrows twitched. "You can call me Sev, if you want," he offered.

The child smiled, assenting. In a few minutes, she was talking animatedly to him in her own language, Draco joining in with nonsensical babble as well. Severus looked slightly overwhelmed, but played along fantastically.

Narcissa smiled at the typically bitter, cynical dark-haired man. This was the side of Severus few people saw, the gentle, kind, almost enthusiastic man that hid behind the façade of a cold, unfeeling ex-Death Eater. Narcissa called for a tea service and some milk and cookies for her children and settled in to watch the children play with her secret love.

Eventually, Ashley and Draco were led away for a nap. When Narcissa came back to talk to Severus, the man was holding a cup of tea loosely in his long, skilled fingers.

"Was it just me, or does that girl-child of yours look strangely like Sirius and Meghan Black?" he said coolly. Narcissa picked up her own cup of tea and half-smiled.

"Now, Severus," she said smoothly, "whatever would make you think that?" She sipped at her tea. Severus watched her shrewdly.

"I'm not sure, madam," he said calmly. "It may have been the fact that she has the same face as Mrs. Black, or—"

Narcissa was watching him with a raised eyebrow. He smirked. "You know, don't you? You know why she looks so much like Meghan."

"You had to ask?" she said silkily, setting down her cup. "Yes, Severus, she's Meghan's daughter. Or she was. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to convince her that she's not my daughter without killing myself over it. I love that little girl."

"She is an acceptable child," Severus said blandly, but the smile in his eyes gave him away. Narcissa looked at him, her eyes hurt.

"How am I supposed to tell her I'm not her mother?" she asked, hanging her head and studying her hands. "I love her like I _am _her mother." A hand landed on her shoulder.

"Cissa—you _are_ her mother," Severus explained. Narcissa looked up, startled. "You don't believe me? You can see it in her eyes. She doesn't know anyone else, she trusts you; you're all she has. And what a mother to have," he added. Narcissa's cheeks reddened. He smiled lopsidedly. "Look, Cissa, mothers aren't just by blood," he said, trying to make her see. "Mothers are by actions as well. Who's raised Ashley? Who changed her diapers, who fed her, and who got up at two in the morning to make sure she was feeling all right?"

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

"You did. What has Meghan done for her daughter since two years ago? Nothing. No, that's the truth, Narcissa. You can't hide from it. Trust me, Cissa, you're her mother and you'll never convince her otherwise. It just doesn't work that way." Her blue eyes stared into his dark, dark brown. Then she half-crumpled, crying as she gave him a hug that he returned awkwardly.

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered to the only friend that was still with her.

"You know I'll always be here if you need me," he replied simply.

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

"Ashley, curve your hands more, love. That's it. Now keep them like that. Good girl. Let's hear that again." The little black-haired girl, sitting perched precariously on the piano stool, played through a simple version of Mary Had a Little Lamb. Narcissa clapped. "Good job, sweetheart. Draco, is everything all right? This is Ashley's music lesson."

The blonde boy shifted a little. "I know, Mum, but Blaise is here, and I didn't know if Ashley wanted to come say hi." Ashley squealed quietly.

"Mamà, please, can I go see Blaise?" the five-year-old pleaded. "It's been ever so, ever so long since he last visited." Narcissa nodded, smiling as her adopted daughter bounced out of the room, following her son. It was good to know that even after Lucius, the two children could still be children, excited at the prospect of seeing a dear friend.

She slowly followed her children through the Manor to Draco's bedroom. A dark-haired, olive-skinned boy sat on a chair in the corner of the room. Ashley rushed over and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug. "'lo, Miranda," he told her. "Bonjour, Tante Cissa," he added. He had always insisted on calling his best friend's sister by her middle name.

"_Benvenuto_, Blaise," the little girl murmured with only a little bit of difficulty. The Italian boy grinned and ruffled her black hair. She squealed and smoothed it down. "Blaise, don't _do_ that!" Blaise just ruffled it again. She groaned.

"He only does it 'cause it riles you up, princess," Draco said with a grin of his own. He was fiercely protective of his sister in all but blood, and he loved her more than anything.

She pouted. "I know he does, Draco, but make him stop."

"Oh, I don't know, Ash, I like to do it too," he teased, patting her head playfully. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Just 'cause I'm shorter than you are," she complained. Then she turned back to Blaise. "You went to Italy, didn't you?" He nodded. "Oh, was it fun there? What did you see? Was the food good? Was there a lot of spaghetti? Was it really pretty?"

"Yes," Blaise said simply. "We saw the, the Si—the Sis-tine Cha-pel, and the ceiling is really cool. Some My—my—Michael-Angel painted it, and I really liked it. I want to be able to paint like that when I'm older."

"You will be, Blaise," Ashley said confidently. "You can do _anything_." Blaise just flushed and looked away. Draco took Ashley's hand and asked if she wanted to play a game. She squealed happily and listened to what Draco was saying enthusiastically.

A few minutes later, the children were firmly entrenched in the world of make-believe, playing Knights and Princesses. Ashley insisted that she was a Princess Knight, and the rest of them had to wait for her to save them.

"Ashley, guys are knights," Draco said, his voice sounding put-upon. "Girls are princesses and ladies."

"Nuh-uh! What about that queen that we read about in History the other day? Queen Maeve was as good as a knight, wasn't she, Mamà?"

"That she was, love. Draco, your sister can be a princess knight if she wants to."

"Yes, Mum," he said obediently. "Well, anyway, I'm going to wait outside the castle for an invastion and Blaise will come and fight me because he's the invasion, see—" Narcissa smiled and slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She would talk to her children later. Let them be children while they still could.

It had been five years since she'd adopted Ashley, and only five months since she'd started to teach her daughter about her biological parents. Ashley still hadn't grasped the fact that Narcissa wasn't her mother, but who could blame her? She was only five years old.

Narcissa was teaching her children many things, French, piano, violin, reading, writing, arithmetic, history…but the most valuable lesson she could teach them was how to have fun. There was quite a shortage of fun in the huge, intimidating Malfoy Manor, and it was easy to forget the good things in life with Lucius putting them down every second step.

But as she heard Ashley's chiming laughter from Draco's room, she realized something. No matter how much Lucius beat her, no matter how many times he slapped Ashley or punched Draco or broke bowls or belittled any of them, they would never lose themselves.

Ashley would always be Ashley, the good times, and the bad times. Draco would be Draco, when he was happy and when he was sad. The two of them would always be brother and sister, whether Ashley lived with Meghan or with her. If there was one thing that Lucius couldn't break, couldn't beat, it was the very souls, the very existence of these two innocent, beautiful children that called Narcissa their mother.

She leaned against the wall and hummed a line of the lullaby she'd sung Ashley when the three-month-old baby had made her first appearance in the nursery.

_Wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be far away._

As long as she lived, and even beyond her death, she would be with her son and her daughter, protecting and helping them as they grew and became adults, with lives and children of their own. They were hers and would always be, for better or for worse.

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Blaise sat at a table in the music room with his drawing pencils. It was time for Ashley's music lesson, and Draco had insisted on coming to watch. Narcissa had smiled but assented.

"Auntie," he murmured as Ashley played through her scales. Narcissa looked over at the blue-eyed boy.

"_Sí_, Blaise?" she replied. The dark boy smiled shyly. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, tracing lines on the paper in front of him.

Narcissa patted the young child's hand. "Of course I am, love," she winked at him. "That was pretty good, Ashley. Try G-major again, please. Remember the F-sharp."

"Yes, Mamà," the six-year-old said, biting her lip and concentrating very hard. Narcissa looked back at Blaise. "Why the sudden worry, Blaise?"

Blaise ducked his head. "Nothing, Auntie. Just something Draco said," he said softly. She ruffled his hair and gave him a hug.

"Oh, Blaise, Draco," she said with a sigh, using her other arm to pull her blonde son into the hug. "You relax and leave the worrying to me, all right?"

Blaise agreed, turning back to his drawing as Narcissa released him. She turned her blue eyes to Draco. He watched her stubbornly. Her eyebrows came together. "Dragon, don't worry about me. I'm an adult, it's my job to watch you. All right?" Draco nodded reluctantly. She mussed his hair. "That's my boy. Why don't you and Blaise go play somewhere else? Ashley and I are going to have a little talk about something." She gave Draco a kiss on the cheek and shooed him and his friend out of the room.

"We'll be in the playroom, Mum, Ash," Draco called as they left. He shut the door carefully behind him and turned to look at Blaise before he set off.

Blaise tucked his drawing pad under his arm, hurrying after his blond friend.

"Are you going to give up worrying?" he asked his best friend as they navigated through the halls.

"No," Draco said flatly. "Are you?"

"Not if you're not," Blaise said matter-of-factly. "If there's someone who knows what needs to be worried about here, it's you, Draco." Draco opened the playroom door as they slipped into the blue room.

Blaise and Draco settled at the table. The seven-year-old blonde leaned over his dark-haired friend's shoulder. "Who's that?" he asked. The lines on the page formed a rough, childishly drawn face. Draco traced a dark line with his finger.

"I don't know yet," Blaise said honestly.

Draco looked at him oddly. "You don't know? Why not?"

"Sometimes you just have to let it make itself," Blaise tried to explain. "Don't you ever just start something without knowing how it's going to finish? Like music or something?"

Draco shrugged. "Not really. I'm not good enough yet. I think Mum does sometimes, but you have to be really good to do that." He looked at Blaise, a questioning tilt to his head. "Why don't you think about who it's going to be?"

"Because I like it to be open," the boy said uncertainly. "I want to be able to do whatever I want with it, and I want to know what my mind's thinking about."

"You don't know what you're thinking about?"

"Sometimes I do," the boy said vaguely. Draco looked intrigued as he watched Blaise draw. He began to make tracing motions on the table, his eyes half-closing as he relaxed. Blaise said nothing. He simply drew, not even looking at Draco as the boy traced an imaginary picture on the smooth wood surface of the table.

Draco peered over Blaise's shoulder, watching the dark boy pencil eyes and lips onto the paper. It was like watching his mother's long agile fingers dance on the piano keys when she played for him and Ashley. The little boy, not yet eight years old, watched his friend's dark pencil as he would a bug or a snake or anything else a young boy-child would find interesting.

Blaise drew a nose, slowly, meticulously, before the perfectionist child rubbed it out with an eraser to try again. Draco watched avidly, wanting to know more about this strange, unfamiliar process.

He peered over Blaise's shoulder more and more insistently, until he was blocking the light to his best friend's drawing paper. The paper was completely shadowed; Blaise's hand stopped moving. Finally, the boy looked up at Draco, smiling. "You want a piece of paper?"

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Ashley stumbled into her mother's room. Her legs were refusing to work together, or was that her ankle? She wasn't sure. It had been a day since she remembered running around the Manor with Draco, and a day since Lucius had come banging through the door, informing the children that they were being unnecessarily loud and that they needed to learn to be quieter. It had been a day since her punishment, and the details were hazy to her mind. Who would want to remember anyway? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It was her mother she was worried about now. Lucius had come home today with a Look on his face, the look that promised trouble. "Mamà?" she called very softly. "Mamà, are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand to the puffy bruise that was forming around her left eye as she searched for Narcissa. "Mamà, where are you?"

A scream rang out from the other room. Ashley rushed up to the adjoining door and put her ear to the wood. She heard her father's dangerously low tones. "Be quiet, Narcy, or I'll open that door. Who knows what little Ashley will do?"

Her mother gasped. "You wouldn't," she whispered fiercely. "I won't let you. You're already bad enough. You're not going anywhere near her—" a slap cut her off.

"I'll do what I like, wench. Don't forget, in the eyes of the purebloods, you _belong_ to me. I can do _any_thing I want," he said in a singsong tone.

Ashley backed away from the door slowly. If her mother didn't want her there, she'd go. She didn't want to make her mother sad.

She had started to head toward the door when her mother screamed again. She rushed back to the other door. Even her sense of obedience and self-preservation was outweighed by her concern for her mother. "Mamà?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

Narcissa, on the other side of the door, whimpered as she heard her daughter's voice, however softly, float through the door. "Ashley," she hissed. Lucius smirked.

"Would little Ashley like to come in?" he said, his voice sickly sweet._ Bastards, idiots, the lot of them,_ he thought to himself. _The little brat shouldn't be snooping, in any case,_ he added in justification. He let Narcissa pull a sheet over herself. _She's interrupted something she needn't have learned so early._ He fixed his appearance back to its normal, pristine condition and threw open the door, glaring darkly at the dark-haired seven-year-old.

"What have I told you about interrupting, young lady? Your mother and I were busy. You are meant to respect that."

Ashley looked at the ground. "I'm sorry, sir," she murmured to her feet. Lucius's hand shot out and forced her chin up, so that his gray eyes bore into her stormy-sea-colored irises.

She whimpered slightly and tried to turn her head away, but Lucius's grip on her chin was like iron. "You will not interrupt us again, do you hear?" he said viciously. That little bitch had rushed in during his own time, and she would _pay_!

"Yes, sir," she said obediently. Lucius pushed her up against the door and slapped her. Her head whipped to the side. "I understand, sir," she whispered, frightened. Lucius smirked cruelly and threw open the door, tossing the small child through the portal like a sack of flour, not even twitching when he heard her hit the ground. He shut the door, locking and silencing it.

"Bastard," Narcissa hissed at the tall, forbidding man. Her eyes smoldered. She was trembling with a feeling somewhere between fear and anger. She half-sat up, glaring at him vehemently. "Why did you do it?"

"Just be thankful I didn't do anything—_else_," he said coldly. "She's a pretty little child, isn't she, Narcissa?"

"Cradle-snatcher," she growled, ignoring the warning look he shot at her. "You bastard." She spat at him, causing his eyes to flash dangerously.

"Quite the contrary, Narcy. My parents were married, happily or no, when I was born." He smiled barely a sliver of a smile that could have cut through iron.

Narcissa shivered.

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Ashley sat in Narcissa's lap, a photo album open on her own lap. Narcissa pointed at one picture of a dark-haired, blue-eyed girl laughing, her arm around the shoulders of a younger Narcissa. "That was your mother and I in fifth year. She was always so enthusiastic. Everyone loved Meghan—how could we not?" She smiled reminiscently. "She was smart, but she wasn't just book-smart like I was. She had the sharpest common sense, and she could rattle off the cryptic half-truths as fast as Severus could." She laughed. "Sometimes Lily would ask why she wasn't in Slytherin. And Meghan would always say—"

"'In the same House as Lucius Malfoy? He wouldn't last five minutes if I lived in the same dungeons as him!'" Ashley provided with a half-smile. "You said."

"She meant it, too. She could hardly sit still, either, which wasn't very Slytherin of her. She was very high-energy. I tried to teach her to play piano, but she couldn't stand all the classical tunes. 'Cissa,' she'd whine, 'it's so _boring_! No one listens to this anymore!' Eventually I just taught her popular music, and then she shut up—well, except for singing. She had the sweetest alto voice I've ever heard—she and Sirius used to make it a point to sing a duet every year on the anniversary of the day they got together—just their luck it was a Hogsmeade weekend the first year after, too…"

Ashley pointed to another picture. Meghan, Lily Evans, Katherine Bassett and Severus sat in a close circle, talking animatedly. Narcissa had obviously taken the picture. "Were you studying again?"

"No, love," the blonde woman smiled sadly. "That was the day after I announced that I was going to marry Lucius. I didn't know until after your mum died, but they were trying to think of ways to break the engagement. Severus told me. I thought they were just arguing again—they loved to, especially Kate and Severus." She wrapped her arms around her daughter's waist in a hug, pressing her cheek to the side of Ashley's head. Ashley leaned in to her mother's touch. "But if I'd never married Lucius, I'd never have gotten the chance to be your Mamà, would I?"

Narcissa felt Ashley smile. "Love you, Mamà," the nine-year-old said softly.

"I love you too, Ashley," she replied.

She turned the page and laughed. "Look, there's the time we caught Meghan and Sirius kissing for the first time! Your uncle didn't know they were going out yet, but we were looking for Meghan, and Kate had the brilliant idea to look in the broom cupboard. And there were Meghan and Sirius, holding hands and kissing! Lily nearly lost her mind. Kate went on and on about being traumatized. Severus was obviously somewhere else, but of course Kate just whipped out her camera and preserved the memory—for 'posterity'."

Ashley laughed, watching her kissing parents break apart and a rosy red blush explode on Meghan's face. Sirius looked away, putting a hand in front of his face as he mouthed "Kate!"

"Mamà?" she asked suddenly, "where's Kate?"

Narcissa was taken aback by the question. "Kate? Oh, I don't know. She married Remus Lupin, I remember—she snagged the sanest of the Marauders, if you ask me—but after that, I haven't heard anything about her. She was an Unspeakable last I know. She's probably had a child by now. I always thought Kate would make an _interesting_ mother. She has some interesting ways of dealing with issues, and their house would be practically crawling with photo albums."

She smiled and ruffled Ashley's hair. "Why do you ask, chickadee?" she teased.

"Mamà!" Ashley protested (both the hair-ruffle and the nickname). "I just wanted to know, is all," answered her mother's question. "I think it's perfectly reasonable to ask after my Mamà's best friend! Especially 'cause I don't have any aunts and uncles to start with," she said cheekily.

"Oh yes you do," Narcissa argued. "What about your Aunt Andi?"

"I don't know Aunt Andi," Ashley explained slowly. "She can't come to visit 'cause Uncle Ted's a Muggleborn and Lucius thinks she's a blood-traitor."

Narcissa sighed. "Oh well. Now, this next picture here was just after Meghan and I had finished our NEWTS—you see how we're both slumped on the desk? Well, Kate was visiting for whatever reason—I think she had a meeting with Dumbledore. So we were ready to go and pass out on a table from sheer exhaustion. Just as we go to pass out, we see a camera flash. Oh, you should have seen how fast Meghan was up and running. She _hated_ photographs." She grinned. "It was just like we were in third year again—Kate was chasing Meghan through the halls, waving a camera, and Meghan was shrieking the password to the Fat Lady at the top of her lungs even though she was on the opposite side of the castle."

Ashley giggled. "My mum sounds really silly." Narcissa laughed herself, closing the album. "Did she really run in the halls?"

"Yes." Narcissa smiled. "Meghan was the most energetic person I've ever met—and I even know Sirius and James. She was always so up-and-at-em, no matter how early or late it was. She was always trying to lighten the mood if we were sad…she loved to make jokes or tease people. She would have made a really good mother for you if she had lived."

Ashley snuggled into her mother's arms. "But you're my Mamà, and I don't want another one. You're the best mum any girl could have," she confided sincerely. "I love Meghan, I think, but I love you even more because you're _real_. Meghan's just a memory."

Narcissa kissed the top of Ashley's head, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. "I love you, Ashley," she whispered into her hair.

"Love you too, Mamà."

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Ashley sat in bed that night shivering, rubbing her arms and hugging herself. How could this have happened? What had she done?

The ten-year-old had been sitting in her room minding her own business and being very, very quiet—exactly what Lucius always wanted her to do. Narcissa was out at tea with other Slytherin mothers and Draco was off at Hogwarts terrorizing the student population on her father's orders. It was the weekend. He had plenty of free time to scare everyone. And he would do it too, he was that afraid of Lucius. They were all that afraid of Lucius. And he knew they feared him, too.

And still he had come banging into her room, picking her up off her seat and throwing her into the wall. She reached a hand up and felt blood still matting her hair in the back. She dashed away the tears that threatened to run down her already salt-streaked face. Then—oh, she didn't want to remember what he'd done next. She could smell the firewhiskey on his breath, and if there was one thing Lucius didn't need, it was alcohol.

But yet, he had drunk it. And what he had done "under the influence" would haunt Ashley forever.

She pulled her legs out of their crossed position and drew them up to her chest, burying her face in her knees. Her father couldn't be a pedophile. Wait…Lucius wasn't her father.

No, her _father_ wasn't a pedophile. She doubted her father had ever even thought about pedophilia. Lucius, though, he was a different story. _He…he raped me,_ she thought, her eyes lost as she stared into the faintly-lit room around her. The honey-colored wood furnishings barely registered, and the blue walls and the thick white carpet weren't really there. Or was it just that they didn't matter? Not much did, at the moment. _How could he have…touched me like that?_ Her mind skipped back to an incident two or three years ago, when she had seen her mother and Lucius in a compromising position before her father—Lucius—had found her and punished her for "interrupting". _He's hurting Mamà the same way,_ she realized suddenly. _But…how could he? And how could he even think of his daughter—_that—_way?_

Was it just that he was drunk? _People get drunk_, she reasoned, _so was it just that? Maybe he was just sick and didn't know what he was doing. That's understandable, right?_

What struck her mind as logical thinking didn't change the pain in her heart or the rest of her body. She laughed wetly. _I can just see the headline now: __**Lucius Malfoy Cheats on Wife with Daughter!**__ Rita Skeeter would love it._ She rubbed a hand across her tired eyes, knowing that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep yet.

A figure appeared in the doorway. Ashley looked up, startled, before recognizing her mother's gentle features by the light of the torches in her room. "Mamà," she sighed with relief. "You're home late," she commented, the smile on her face belying the tear-streaks on her cheeks.

Narcissa didn't say anything, just stepped into the room and took Ashley's face in her hands. "Oh, my little girl," she almost sobbed. "How could he do this?" She cradled her daughter's head in her hands before giving the girl a loving hug. Ashley returned it slowly, mindful of the belt-marks on her back and her mother's.

She cried into her mother's forgiving, comfortable shoulder. Tears and snot smeared Narcissa's delicate green sleeve as Ashley let it all go.

Narcissa's reassuring, manicured hand stroked Ashley's tangled curly hair. "Just let it all out, love. He had no right."

The dark-haired child hung on to her mother as if the woman were a lifeline. "Why, Mamà?" she begged the question again and again. "Why did he do it? What did I do to him?"

"Ash—" Narcissa trailed off. She swallowed, patting her daughter's hair reassuringly—though whether to reassure her daughter or herself, she wasn't sure. "You have to realize—have to understand—well…" She paused. "He does this for pleasure, love," she blurted out, hugging her daughter closer. "He's a sick, twisted bastard."

Ashley snorted through her tears. Narcissa kissed the young girl's forehead. "Get some sleep, dear." She moved to go, but Ashley clutched at her mother's dress.

"Don't go," she whispered. "Please."

Narcissa sighed, pulling the dark-haired child onto her lap and rocking back and forth. The traumatized child held on to her mother for dear life, only relaxing her grip slightly when sleep took her. She slept on, her breath hitching still with sobs, her head buried in Narcissa's dress. The blonde woman's eyelids drooped lower and lower until she fell asleep with her chin resting on Ashley's head.

And that was how Severus found them the next day when he came to visit, hugging yet asleep, alone in the world that did not love them.

So the great greasy bat of the dungeons strode silently up to his sleeping goddaughter and her mother and sat next to them, putting a friendly arm around Narcissa's waist.

"I'll always be here for you," he whispered in the split second before Ashley and Narcissa awoke.

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

Draco stepped through the Floo. "Ash!" he called softly to his sister's adjoining room, "I'm home!" He expected the slender, small dark-haired girl to come running.

But the door very, very slowly opened and Ashley smiled timidly at him. "Hello, Ray," she whispered. "How was school?"

"It was amazing," Draco sighed. "Blaise and I spent ages just sitting doing nothing on the weekends, and we didn't even get in trouble!"

He held out a hand to his sister, who grabbed it with her much smaller hand and let him lead her to his bed. She perched on the end while he sprawled on it, kicking off his shoes.

"Is it very big?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Draco agreed. "It's huge! It's bigger than—than the Manor and a half!" Ashley's eyes widened—all she had ever known was the Manor, and it seemed to be the whole world (Well, except for Pansy Parkinson's home (Nightshade Manor) and the Patil twins' home (Patil House), which were the only other places Ashley had been. Nightshade and Patil House were both slightly smaller than Malfoy Manor.).

"There's the Great Hall, and the North Tower, the Ravenclaw Tower, and the Gryffindor Tower. I don't know where the Hufflepuff dorms are, but Slytherin's are under the lake. It gets really cold, but it's nice, and Uncle Severus is a really good Head of House, even though the rest of the school hates him."

"No one seems to like him." Ashley sighed. "They just don't know him," she rationalized, remembering the day she and her mother had woken up, Severus next to them offering comfort after what had nearly shattered Ashley.

The shouting match between Lucius and her Mamà after that had been explosive, and Narcissa hadn't been able to leave the house for a whole week after. But they had decided together not to tell Draco about it, because it was over, and Ashley would deal with it herself if it killed her. Not that it would.

Hopefully.

"Guess what happened? Dumbledore was keeping the Philosopher's Stone in the school, and one of the professors—Quirrell—he was trying to get it, for some reason. Dumbledore didn't say what the reason was. But anyway, Potter and Weasley and Granger, they went to go rescue the Stone the night Quirrell tried to steal it. And somehow they managed to get a hundred and sixty points for Gryffindor, and then Longbottom got another ten points, and they won the House Cup even though it should have been Slytherin's. I think Dumbledore is a Gryffindor, 'cause he sure favors them most of the time." Draco paused for breath and then launched into the story of what the Gryffindor Trio had triumphed over to rescue the Stone. Ashley listened intently. Draco finished and flopped back in the bed. "That was the best year ever!"

She played with the hem of her knee-length green dress, her legs curled underneath her. It was loose on her—she hadn't been eating much lately. The white ribbon waistband had been tied as tight as it could be and still it was loose. Just that morning, Narcissa had fretted silently over her daughter's thinness, but still Ashley could tell.

"Something wrong, Ash?" Draco asked, flipping over to lay on his stomach, his gray eyes boring in to her stormy blue ones. She looked away, back at her green-covered lap.

She couldn't tell him. He would never understand, and she never wanted him to understand. Now, she had her Mamà, and that was all she needed. She could handle it; she _knew_ she could.

Ashley made a decision that day. She squared her small shoulders and took up the burden that was her life, and resolved to always keep going with the smile her life deserved.

No matter how bad things seemed to get, no matter how much her back ached or her head hurt or her eyes swelled, Ashley would face tomorrow with the same amount of energy that she had faced her very birth with.

She would do whatever she could to protect her family. Even if that protection was only from her own problems.

Ashley's back straightened and her chin tilted up.

Draco sat up, noticing the change, and looked his sister in the eye. Something about her was different, now.

"Something wrong?" he repeated, a little worried now. His concerned gray eyes spoke volumes. His sister's mouth quirked into a lopsided smile.

"Don't worry, Ray," she said strongly, "everything's going to be all right."

It wasn't until days later that he realized she hadn't answered his question.

**AshleyAshleyAshley**

**A/N 2:** And there, my friends, is a plot bunny that just randomly hippety-hopped into my head. Now, I promised an Ashley explanation for those who are still unclear about her identity or the identity of her parents. This will also include what you know so far about the adoption thingy. (Meghan is also included. These are my two main original characters.)

**Ashley**

Ashley Marie Black was born August 31, 1981 (just under the cutoff for Hogwarts, which in my mind is September 1). Her parents are Meghan Aletha Potter Black and Sirius Orion Black. Meghan is James Potter's younger sister (she's only a year younger). Meghan and Sirius married in 1978, the same time as James and Lily. She was adopted at the age of three months by Lucius Theodore Malfoy and Narcissa Marie Black Malfoy, and renamed Ashley Miranda Malfoy to try to disguise her identity. Her birthday has been moved around (to August 28th, coincidentally the same day a year later than my (non-canon) Hermione is born) and people were probably bribed to turn a blind eye to the similarities. Papers have been faked, et cetera, so the birth seems normal. Death Eaters are good at that.

**Meghan**

James's little sister was born August 8, 1958. She is a Gryffindor. She was in the same Hogwarts year as Narcissa and Regulus Black. She was good friends with Narcissa, Lily Evans, Severus Snape, and Muggleborn Kate Bassett. She married Sirius Black when she was twenty years old. Ashley was born when she was twenty-three. She was attacked by Narcissa Malfoy later that same year.

**So** does this cover any confusion?

Ashley is in WAYA, LIMOS, and PFTP. If you want to see a slightly different Ashley, find her there. You can also find Meghan in these stories.

Hope you enjoyed. Review and tell me if I should keep posting or not.

Love,

LysPotter xoxo


	2. Feeling Normal

**A/N**: Terribly sorry, readers. I have been writing the middle and end of this story, and sorely neglecting the beginning. I finally buckled down and wrote this though! Hope you enjoy, even though it's mediocre and not very exciting. Next chapter will feature the reactions to the Chamber of Secrets and such.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, man, it would SO have been about Hermione instead. Such the better character…Alas, though, it is called the "Harry Potter series", not the "Hermione Granger series". Anymore proof necessary?

**Chapter Two: Feeling Normal**, in which Ashley M. Malfoy begins schooling at Hogwarts and an innocent magazine is revealed to be much, much more.

Ashley Miranda Black-Malfoy, as she liked to call herself in her head, kissed her mother's pale cheek one last time. "I'll be fine, Mamà. Ray'll protect me, you know he will. Blaise is going to be there and so is Père Severus and I'll be _fine_, Mamà, I swear."

"Don't swear, darling," Narcissa said absently. "You promise me that if anything goes wrong you'll go straight to Sev?"

"Yes, Mamà, I promise—_we_ promise. I'll owl you tonight, and let you know which House I'm in. I'll borrow Blaise's owl."

"Okay, Ashley." She started to let her daughter go, before pulling her close again. "You can't go so far away! What will I do without you and Draco!"

"Mamà, I have to go. Be careful around Father. I'll try to get Père Severus to owl you every week and please write back to me. Tell me everything. À bientôt, Mamà!" She disentangled herself from her mother's arms and stepped up onto the train. "I love you," she called as she turned and walked onto the train.

"Ash," Draco sighed. "Thank god, I was wondering where you were."

"Blaise, do we have a compartment? And Ray, Mamà has separation anxiety."

"I don't blame her," Blaise muttered. "Alone in that house. I'd have separation anxiety too. As for a compartment. Yeah, this one's free. Have a seat?" He opened the compartment door for her. She thanked him and strode in, taking a dignified seat before slumping in the seat.

"Ow. How can you do that, Ray?" she asked when her brother fell gracelessly onto the seat. "My back hurts like hell."

"Ashley, I know you haven't got the hang of the whole 'keep it a secret or Father will kill us' quota that we have, but you really need to remember it. Appearances are everything to all the rest of them. You're a Malfoy. To them, anyway," he amended at Ashley's raised eyebrows. "They don't know better. They think you're like him. His sort of pureblood. They want you to act like one." Ashley flopped back with a wince. She raked a hand through long, curly black hair and sighed, her blue-gray eyes closing drowsily. Draco grinned at his little sister.

"Yeah, whatever…I wish I knew someone in my year that wasn't a total bastard. Who might actually talk to me even though I'm a Malfoy." She ran a hand down the side of her face and yawned.

"Hey, I only have one." Draco pointed at Blaise. Blaise shook his head wryly. "At least he listens to me talk once in a while." Ashley looked at him and groaned.

"You mean he's the closest thing to a good guy there will be? Oh Merlin and Morgana, kill me now. Kill me now." Blaise threw a chess piece from his pocket at her.

"Well, it is the truth," she grinned. "I'm sorry if it hurts! So you're saying everyone's going to hate me…Well, damn."

"Yeah, Miranda, don't hold your breath." Blaise ruffled her hair playfully. "Malfoys aren't generally well-liked in the community.

Ashley smirked. "I never get my hopes up, Blaise. It's stupid because they always crash right back down." She turned her head to the window and watched as the train pulled out of the station.

"You know, I didn't see Harry Potter or—what's his name, Ron—Weasley get on the train," she commented. "The rest of them—the twins you're always talking about and the one in glasses—they all got on, and I think there was a girl my age with them—"

"The Weaselette?" Draco groaned. "That's right, she is coming to Hogwarts this year. I saw her in Flourish and Blott's, already a loyal Potter junkie."

"Hey, Ray, relax," Ashley reprimanded, touching a hand to her back and trying not to wince. "You know that we don't have to be harsh to them in private if we don't want to, and besides, I thought you decided he wasn't so bad."

Draco muttered something unintelligible, which Ashley ignored, pulling a book of her bag and settling in to read. Blaise did the same, leaving Draco to grumble and get out the French novel his mother had suggested to him. Ashley looked over the top of her book at him and smiled. "Ray, don't pretend you don't love it."

And so they passed a quiet ride to school. Obviously, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle had other places to be. For that, Ashley was thankful. It was relaxing to just read her book quietly, in a silent compartment, with those who she knew she could trust.

"Firs' years!" called the big booming voice of Rubeus Hagrid as Ashley stepped onto the Hogsmeade platform. "Firs' years over 'ere!" The black-haired girl swallowed, straightened her robes, and said to her brother and his best friend, "Well, here goes nothing."

"_Bonne chance_," Draco whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. She smiled and leaned into the touch. "_Rendez _Mum_ fière_Ashley" (Good luck. Make Mum proud, Ashley.)

"_Vada dove siete i più felici, _Miranda," Blaise added in Italian. (Go wherever you are happiest, Miranda. **A/N: I used an online translator, so it's probably wrong**.) Ashley kissed Draco, then Blaise, on the cheek and scampered off to join her housemates. Blaise waved after her.

Draco stood there. "Merlin protect you, _chère sœur_," he muttered. Blaise grabbed his sleeve and dragged his friend toward the carriages. "Ray, she'll be fine, just chill. It's just till the Sorting." He shoved the blonde boy into the carriage and climbed in after him to see that two redheads already sat in the carriage.

"Weasley." Draco sneered slightly. "Weasley."

"Yes, last time—"

"—we checked—"

"—Malfoy," the boys traded off coolly. "Zabini," added the first twin. Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"I'm sure you two don't mind if we share this carriage," Draco said disdainfully.

The twins said nothing. Neither did Draco or Blaise. Therefore, the ride up to the school was silent.

That was the way they preferred it.

BREAK

Ashley twisted her hands in her robe as Hagrid explained what was going on. A redhead girl, who was standing next to her, shivered violently. "It's freezing," the child muttered to herself. Ashley couldn't help but respond.

"I agree," she whispered back. The girl looked at her oddly. Ashley offered a smile. "Well, I don't know who came up with the brilliant idea of forcing the littlest kids to ride in boats across a freezing cold lake when they come to school. But they weren't exactly being very smart. We're the most likely to get hurt or sick."

A smile glittered in the dark. "You have a point," the redhead said wryly. "We are the youngest…" Then she started. "Oh, sorry. I'm Ginny." She offered a cold, pale hand. Ashley groaned inwardly. Someone who appeared to have a brain, and she wasn't allowed to talk to her. Oh well. She could pretend she didn't know who she was for a while.

"Ashley. It's a pleasure." She shook it, smiling warmly. The two girls climbed into a boat together, accompanied by a small, excited brunet boy and a dark-haired girl.

The journey across the lake was routine, and the first years trudged up the huge steps shivering. When Professor McGonagall opened the doors with the stern look she so prized on her face, Ashley took a half-step back, frightened. Ginny grabbed her arm. "Don't fall, Ashley, it's a ways down," she muttered. Ashley nodded, trying not to jerk away from her companion. She would definitely have noticed the movement, and would have asked some sticky questions. Ginny instead wrapped her small hand around Ashley's as they walked quickly through the hall. They pulled to a stop in front of the Great Hall doors. Ginny's hand tightened around Ashley's. "Fred and George—that's my brothers, well, two of them anyway—they say we have to wrestle a troll to get Sorted."

"Oh, I doubt they'd do anything that dangerous." Draco had stubbornly refused to tell her what the Sorting ceremony entailed when he came home last year, and she didn't know whether that should worry her or not.

She wondered what her companion thought about the preferences of one house over another—particularly, any house over Slytherin. Would she be the sort to clamor about Gryffindor but despise Slytherin? "Ginny, what do you think about House rivalries?"

"Oh, they're okay in Quidditch. But I don't think that's a good idea in the halls and actual school." Ashley smiled. _Finally, a friend who agrees with me,_ she thought. _Well, besides Blaise, that is,_ she conceded. She followed through the door with the rest of the first-years. Ginny still held tight to her hand, worried. _Is this what it's like to have a real girl friend?_ she wondered to herself. _If I was frightened, would I lean on the nearest kind stranger as well?_

When McGonagall relayed that all they had to do was try on the hat, Ginny's iron grip on her hand relaxed. "Ooh, Fred and George are so dead," she muttered to herself, causing a half-smile to flit across Ashley's face. "All we have to do is try on a stupid hat. Sorry, Ashley was it? Yeah, didn't mean to crush your hand," she said with a blush.

"No problem," Ashley whispered back, squeezing Ginny's hand before letting go, knowing the girl wouldn't want to be associated with her once her name was called. "What House are you going to be in, do you think?"

"My whole family's been in Gryffindor," Ginny said resignedly, almost sadly, "so that's probably where I'll end up." She didn't sound very excited at the prospect of the red-and-gold House of bravery (and recklessness).

"What, you don't like Gryffindor?" There was nothing more Ashley wanted than to defy her father and get placed there. Just to spite him. But Ginny would have different reasons for not wanting to be in Gryffindor. Maybe she just didn't fit there. Ashley wouldn't, that much she was pretty sure of.

"It'd just be nice to be different, don't you think?" the redhead sighed. Ashley nodded and smiled at the girl. Yes, probably not the complete personality of a Gryffindor. A desire to stand out could easily be confused with ambition, a characteristic quality of Slytherin.

"You'll be put wherever you fit best, I'm sure," she said, although she knew there was plenty of stereotyping in the Hat. Draco had said that he was immediately placed in Slytherin, so Ashley assumed it had barely touched Draco's head last year before shouting "Slytherin!" If it had taken the time to actually check Draco's mind, it would have known that the den of the illustrious purebloods. _Although he does make a good Slytherin_, she mused to herself. _But if it had checked, maybe it would have figured out that he deserved a bit of thought before placing him in the house._

She watched the Sorting, clapping politely when each person was Sorted. Finally, "Luzon, Jennifer!" was placed in Hufflepuff and the stern, straight-faced Professor Minerva McGonagall called out to the hall, "Malfoy, Ashley!"

Ashley bit her lip before she straightened her shoulders and walked proudly up to the stool, where she sat, allowing McGonagall to place the ancient, fraying Hat on her head.

_A Malfoy, are you? Because your head says something else entirely, Ms. Black,_ the Hat said shrewdly in her head. Ashley sighed inwardly. At least the Hat wouldn't tell anyone.

_You're quite correct, Mr. Hat, now would you please just move on to the part where you put me in Ravenclaw or Slytherin?_ Ashley thought back at the Hat. She could have sworn it smirked as she said that.

_Well, you're rather blunt for a Slytherin,_ the infernal voice muttered, _and while you're rather intelligent, study isn't your drive like it is for most Ravenclaws…you'd make a quiet but nice Gryffindor—_

_NO!_ Ashley exclaimed. _You don't understand! If you put me in Gryffindor, I'll never see my twelfth birthday, please!_

_Touchy, touchy. If Gryffindor's out of the question, let's think about Slytherin. You want to break out of your father's expectations. But on the other hand, you want to do well in school and you love learning. It seems to me the best place is…"RAVENCLAW!"_

Ashley sighed with relief and hopped down from the stool, joining recent Ravenclaw Suzanne Li at the Ravenclaw table. Her childhood friend Padma Patil greeted her with a smile, and a blonde-haired girl next to her turned to her and said quite frankly, "You know, it's quite a wonder your black hair didn't attract some of the Rafter Rabbits. They might have eaten the Headmaster and then where would we be?"

Ashley giggled. "I'm not quite sure. You wouldn't happen to read the Quibbler, would you?" It was a favorite magazine of Blaise's. The blue-eyed blonde nodded enthusiastically, explaining that her father edited it.

"Ashley Malfoy, as I'm sure you guessed," she told the slightly ditzy girl, offering her hand. The blonde examined it for a minute before smiling.

"Luna Lovegood," she replied, shaking her hand once. "Are you related to Draco Malfoy?" Her eyes were searching.

"Yes," she said simply, "he's my brother."

"You don't look much like brother and sister," Suzanne Li pointed out.

"I take after most of my mother's family. He takes after our parents," Ashley explained.

"It must have been the Plimpies," Luna said sagely. She didn't say any more, but she seemed to watch Ashley throughout the meal. Ashley kept her eyes on her plate. She didn't need more trouble—or worse, someone else learning their secret.

Padma chattered about the new Defense teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart, and how absolutely dreamy he looked. Her friend Mandy Brocklehurst traded exasperated looks with her year-mate Theodore Boot. Apparently her waxing poetic about Lockhart was nothing new.

Ashley was quite content just to listen to the people around her. Ravenclaws, following the stereotype in being an intelligent bunch, had a lot of interesting points to make about many different topics. Some upperclassmen discussed politics, or detailed the results of some recent research breakthroughs in a variety of subjects. The underclassmen made small talk about homework requirements with the first-years being the most curious of the bunch. And there were a few girls other than Padma drooling over the new professor, who was so cute and obviously so talented.

Ashley was surprised to realize that she felt oddly comfortable in the crowd that took no notice of her. And she felt something she had never felt before.

She felt normal.

BREAK

Ashley opened the journal that was spelled to connect to a similar one of her mother's, debating what to write. She chewed on the end of her self-inking quill as she braced the book against her pillow, lying on her stomach with her feet in the air.

Her lit wand sat on the bed next to her pillow, and she stared at the bright tip for a few seconds before putting her quill to the paper, writing fluidly in French.

_Dear Mamà_,

_We arrived without a problem, thank Merlin. I've been Sorted into Ravenclaw, even though the Hat tried to put me in Gryffindor. I've met three new friends all ready. Luna Lovegood and Suzanne Li are in my year and Mandy Brocklehurst is in the year ahead of me. None of them are Muggleborn, though, so L should not have an issue with them._

_The problem now is, I met Ginny Weasley today before we were Sorted. The youngest Weasley? She may hate me now, but she seems like a really nice girl._

_If I were to befriend her, I would have to do it out of the public eye, would I not?_

_I really wish I had the right to choose my own friends sometimes, without worrying about what he's going to think. I…I think I need help._

_Love,_

_Ashley _xox

She closed the book.

It was a death sentence to be caught fraternizing with Ginny Weasley, and Ashley knew it, too. She would be skinned alive and then murdered, possibly brought back to life and murdered again. It was dangerous, yes. But Ashley's life was dangerous, and she was getting used to it. Besides, Ginny was much better than Pansy Parkinson. Anyone Lucius wanted to be her friend was probably a Death Eater in the making.

She was getting ahead of herself. No doubt Ginny Weasley now hated her for being a Malfoy. The ancient Malfoys had just _had_ to pick a name that meant "bad faith", hadn't they? And then they'd decided to live up to it. That obviously had done nothing for her chances of making good friends. She sighed, rolling onto her back as she slipped the book under her mattress, next to her favorite novel and her diary. Life was a bitch. Her head dropped onto the pillow and she ran her fingers through the ends of her hair. She was tired.

She closed her eyes and stretched out her legs, pulling the blankets up to her neck. She lay there, waiting for sleep to come and take her to a place where she could forget it all.

But it wouldn't come.

Her knees drew closer to her chest as she turned on her side. She was now rolled in a protective ball, her head tucked. She tossed and turned, from side to side. Pictures flashed behind her eyelids, like a bad-quality movie. Some were happy. Tea and working in the garden with Mamà (when Lucius was out), a day with Papà—Severus, just studying and joking. All of them together, Severus, Mamà, Draco, and Blaise were enjoying themselves, dancing with Blaise to music Draco and Narcissa played on the piano or on various other instruments as Severus sang with Narcissa. Others were less happy. Lucius yelling at her, crying in Draco's arms, Mamà wrapping her arm with bandages that week Lucius had taken her wand, nightmares in which Lucius had killed her Mamà, or her brother hated her. Blaise frowned at her and turned around to walk off. Parvati Patil looked her over dubiously, a memory of the first day she'd met the twins.

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to rid her mind of the memories. _Go away, I don't want to see you now,_ she thought furiously to herself, closing her eyes even tighter. _I have classes tomorrow and I need to get some sleep!_

The blue curtains around her bed rustled, and she sat straight up, gasping as she looked around for an intruder. Peeking out the curtains, she noticed that the window was open. Cursing her own paranoia but unwilling to go back to sleep with it open, she climbed silently out of bed, shut the window, and crept, catlike, back to her bed.

"Ashley," a dreamy whisper came, stopping her in her tracks and making her whirl around, her eyes wide in the dark room, "are you frightened of something?" There was a rustle as Luna Lovegood pushed herself up from the pillow and yawned.

"Of course not, Luna," she whispered back, trying not to wake the other girls as she stepped closer to her bed.

"Oh. Then why are your eyes so big?" Luna murmured softly, her voice drowsy and sleep-muddled. Ashley could see her sitting up, her hair mussed, through her open bed curtains. Her head was tilted far to the side, almost resting on her shoulder. "You must have heard something. Was it the Jumping Grizzles? What scares you?" Her voice was politely curious, but vague and distant.

Ashley stood there for a moment, flummoxed. Luna must have amazing night vision. "Life, Luna," she finally said. "Life." Perhaps she was saying too much, but it was late, and she couldn't exactly help it.

"Oh. Try getting some sleep." Her innocent suggestion brought a small smile to Ashley's face. Luna was really sweet, if a little odd.

"Thanks for the pointer. Good night."

"Good night."

BREAK

Ashley woke surprisingly early the next morning. The reason soon became apparent when she realized that her wand—which she had left on the bed—was poking into her neck. She winced and moved the stick of wood away. She pushed the curtains on her bed aside, letting the early-morning sunlight warm her face. The golden light felt good on her skin, and she basked for a minute before remembering that she had classes that morning.

She pushed herself off the bed and grabbed a skirt, a blouse, and her school robes, now bearing the Ravenclaw crest after her Sorting last night. She slipped into the bathroom, taking a quick, cool shower and dressing as fast as she could. She had to be out of the bathroom before anyone could see her scars. She combed her hair and pulled it into a braid that she fastened with a blue elastic. When she left the bathroom, she pulled on a pair of socks. Leaving her black school shoes, she pulled out her notebook and noticed that her mother had replied to last night's letter.

_Ma chèrie_she had written, _Congratulations on your Sorting! You remember I was in Ravenclaw? It is certainly a House with potential and you appear to have found a good group of people to learn with. Try to keep checking up on your brother and Blaise, though._

_About the youngest of the family of redheads. Perhaps you should wait and let fate take its course. It won't be easy to make friends with her, no matter how much you might like to. You know such a friendship would _not_ be sanctioned by your father even in the best of times. You must take care not to be seen with her in any way that could prove unfavorable. Your father would not be pleased, and we all know what that means._

Ashley's heart sank. The friendly girl, so eager to be her own person…and Ashley would have no part in it.

_I am not saying, however, that you should abandon all thoughts of talking to and perhaps befriending this girl. She is most likely a delightful girl and a wonderful friend. Perhaps you could find a way to speak to her in private. I just don't want you to find yourself in trouble. You understand. I hope a day will come when you can choose your own friends as well._

_Give your brother and Blaise my love, and promise me you'll take care of yourself._

_Good luck with classes!_

_Much love,_

_Mamà_

Ashley closed the book, smiling slightly. She understood what her mother was saying. She was warning her to be careful. After all, if you play with fire, you run the risk of getting burnt. But Ashley knew how to play the game afoot. She wasn't Draco Malfoy's sister for nothing.

It was, she reflected, rather sad that she had to cover her tracks so carefully if ever she did something Lucius would not approve of. The life she had was the only one she knew, though, so it was really nothing new to her.

And she didn't even know there would be a need to secrecy. Would Ginny even want to be her friend? Why would a confident girl with a family like hers want the friendship of a girl who had more worries than good qualities? Why would a bright, cheerful girl want to be friends with a scared, careful girl who couldn't even protect herself?

Having worked herself into quite the pessimistic mood, Ashley opened her History of Magic textbook and began to read, losing herself in the stories of goblin rebellions, old wizarding monarchies, and countless wars between factions of wizards and magical creatures alike. She never even noticed her dorm-mates wake up and dress, and only looked up when someone called her name, startling her from her book-induced reverie. She looked up to meet the dark, slanted eyes of Suzanne Li.

"Luna, Beth, and I are heading down to breakfast. Helen's still getting dressed. But I meant to say, do you want to come with us?"

Ashley blinked up at her for a moment, before nodding. "Sure. Just let me put on my shoes." She slid her feet into black Mary Janes and followed the Oriental witch out the door. Elizabeth Geoffrey walked next to her.

"So, Ashley, right?" she verified. When Ashley nodded, the brunette offered a smile. "I noticed you were reading A History of Magic. My cousin Winnie—I mean, Rowena—she's in Hufflepuff—she says there's a ghost teaching that glass, and he's so boring he puts all his classes to sleep. All he ever talks about are the goblin rebellions, and none of the interesting things. At least, that's what Winnie said."

"My brother Draco and my friend told me that too," Ashley agreed. "But they said if you read through the textbook and take a few notes—mostly on goblin rebellions—you can do fine on the end of year exam."

Luna looked at Ashley over the top of her upside-down copy of the Quibbler. "Ghosts are part of the Ministry conspiracy against proper education," she said matter-of-factly. "It's well-known that ghosts would eat children if they were substantial," she added, "so the Ministry is making them bore children to sleep instead."

"And how does this help the Ministry?" Elizabeth demanded, condescension thick in her dubious voice. "You'd think they want intelligent workers to keep the Ministry running smoothly." She looked expectantly at Luna.

"Well, it's because Minister Fudge wants an easier-to-control wizarding population so that he can use them to take over the Muggle world's toy factories and manufacture rubber ducks," Luna informed her.

Suzanne snorted with laughter. "Ha." She turned a corner and brought them into the Great Hall. "As if the Minister could be bothered to think about Muggle toys," she sniffed.

Luna shrugged and took a seat at the end of the Ravenclaw table, her wand stuck over her ear as she continued to read her magazine, reaching for an apple without looking.

"I don't know _why_ she's in Ravenclaw," Elizabeth groused. "Oh, there's Leanne." She hurried over to a third-year girl, taking the open seat next to her. Suzanne looked up and down the table and flung herself into a seat three up from Luna.

Ashley rolled her eyes at the other two girls' shallowness and sat next to Luna. "I suppose I never said good morning, did I? Well, good morning, Luna."

"Mm," Luna said without looking up. "Did you know that the Crumpled-Horned Snorkack was seen in Switzerland last—"

"May. Yes, I do. It's really a shame no one managed to get pictures," Ashley sighed. Sometimes Blaise's odd fetishes were useful. Luna's head jerked up, and she looked, surprised, at Ashley.

"You know, that's the first time anyone's actually understood what I'm talking about." For the first time since Ashley had met her, Luna's voice was not vague, or dreamy.

"My brother's best friend is a Quibbler devotee. We read it together sometimes."

Surreptitiously, Suzanne scooted a few seats further up the table, until she bumped into Lillian Shacklebolt. Ashley ignored her.

Luna looked around shortly before turning to Ashley again. "I could tell you more about the Quibbler sometime," she said hopefully. "There's something special about the Quibbler, you see," she stated cryptically. "It's not just a magazine."

Somehow, Ashley found herself inclined to believe her.

"I'd love to hear what you have to tell me," Ashley said honestly, surprised that making a friend out of the reclusive, odd Lovegood girl had been so easy.

"And I'd love to tell you," Luna said, her voice dreamy again and a faint smile on her lips. "I've never had a real friend before, but my mother was right."

"Mine too," Ashley sighed.

_Just be yourself_, she could hear her mother saying. _If someone doesn't like who you are, that's their problem._

Padma sat across from Ashley. "Eat something, Ashley, it's called a meal for a reason."

Ashley jolted out of her thoughts and smiled at her acquaintance-turned-mother-hen. "Pass me an apple, please?"

BREAK

The beginning of Ashley's first year passed smoothly. Draco had a few run-ins with the Gryffindor Golden Trio (as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were known) and Ashley made another friend in Suzanne. Padma continued to watch out for her young friend, and Luna told Ashley all about the Quibbler.

Apparently, it had begun as the way for a secret society to pass their messages around in code. This society, originally researchers who had made the government a little wary of their experiments, had needed a way to keep in touch and hear the latest scoop on the Ministry without endangering their funding, their work, or their other general eccentricities.

Experimenting Magical Creatures researchers had created _interesting_ species by cross-breeding and spell-manipulation, thus the creatures section of the newspaper was filled with reports of odd creatures people rarely saw but seemed to know much about. Experimenting Charms researchers created spells that did odd things to people, thus reports about men who believed they were chickens and such things. And in later years, disgraced politicians had found a way to tell their stories without fear of retribution from the current government.

The true stories about the Ministry, such as how the higher-ups were trying to suppress education to make the population more amiable in their ignorance, were hidden in elaborate conspiracy theories with odd metaphors laced through them, such as ghosts being used to disguise the hidden puppeteers of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

Ashley listened to Luna's translation of the Quibbler stories with fascination, sometimes smirking at the obvious miscalculation of Beth Geoffrey. Luna was, perhaps, more intelligent than most of the wizarding population to understand the complex codes and connotations of the Quibbler's cryptic playful cynicism.

Strangely enough, it felt good to know that Beth had messed up. If she hadn't, Ashley and Luna would never have shared the same friendship they now did.

It was not all sunshine and daises, however. Helen and Beth didn't take to the idea of a Malfoy in their dormitory. Their families were strong Light believers that didn't buy in to Lucius's fabrication of Imperius Curse immunity. Sometimes Ashley's things would go missing, or her socks would be mismatched, or the novel she left on her bed would have the corner of a page folded down or even ripped off.

Luna, who found similar things happening to her belongings, commiserated with the Malfoy girl and advised her to wear her wand in her hair as well, lest it also go missing. Ashley politely refused and wrote her mother asking for some hair accessories to give to Luna for her birthday in November.

Ashley heard almost nothing from her father in th months she was at school. He didn't even write her with a summons to come home for Christmas, which he had tend to Draco the year before in early October, to make sure he didn't forget. Ashley decided to take the old adage "No news is good news" to heart, and not to worry about the lack of communications. She had enough to worry about with classes. She wasn't learning much at all in her defense class—her teacher was an egomaniac obsessed with acting out his successes to the class. After a month and a half, the Ravenclaw girls had mostly put a damper on their hero-worship of the handsome celebrity, realizing his obvious lack of teaching skill with slight disgust.

Perhaps the most interesting class Ashley found herself taking was Astronomy. Thanks to her mother's dedicated storytelling, she could find the constellations connected to many of the relatives on her Black side as they studied the stars. Sometimes she'd stay late, after class, while the teacher packed up, staring at the stars, pretending she had a family as she looked at Sirius, the Dog Star. Professor Sinistra would ask if she had a question, and Ashley would jump, stutter, and ask about the story behind a certain constellation. Sinistra's gray eyes would light up and she'd detail both the magical and Muggle myths that went with the constellation.

It was strange how the stars were always there for her. Sometimes she would sit at the window when everyone else was fast asleep, looking up at the stars, and thinking about what she would say to her father if she ever met him. Sometimes, she would even pretend she could speak to him, and she'd tell the Dog Star all about her latest test score, or the latest edition of the Quibbler. Like Luna, like Blaise, like Draco, the stars just listened, not offering criticism or scolding, just an attentive ear that appealed to Ashley as much as anything she had ever experienced.

But when Halloween came along, Ashley's quiet peace was disrupted, taking with it the carefree life she had started to associate with Hogwarts.

BREAK

**A/N:** Apologies again for the wait. As you might have noticed, I've been updating a lot lately because I've had more and more chances to write and more and more inspiration to finish what I've started. I decided that I need to get Ashley to where she needs to be for the interesting stuff before I keep writing that stuff. So the next chapter should be out sooner because I have been inspired to write more about eleven-year-old Ashley.

I will also be posting another one-shot soon and it would be great if you'd read it!

Much love,

LysPotter xoxo


	3. Observation

_**Veiled Identity**_

**Disclaimer:** In an AU, I would own it. Unfortunately, this is the actual universe. We moan and groan, but it is. Alas.

**A/N:** I know my Snape is OoC, but in my opinion, he's a very good actor and most of the snark is actually acting. Not all of it, of course, but most of it. I am also aware that Luna's a bit OoC, but we don't really know much about her, so I claim creative license! Please don't flame. On the other hand, I'm making brownies soon…

**Chapter Three: Observation**, in which we see quite a bit of Ashley's cousin the Boy-Who-Lived and are privy to some of Ashley's innermost thoughts.

Ashley was just leaving the Great Hall after the Halloween feast, arm-in-arm with Luna. The two were quietly discussing the latest issue of the Quibbler—special for Halloween—and exactly how Hagrid had managed to make his pumpkins grow so big. Ashley was holding onto her idea that they had been enlarged with a growth charm, and Luna was sure it was nothing but very good fertilizer made by garden gnomes and bowtruckles in top-secret underground laboratories. Ashley was just about to ask Luna how Hagrid knew about the underground labs when there was a sudden yell of "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Ashley could recognize her brother's voice anywhere.

She swore inwardly. Something bad must have happened, or something had set her brother off, because he sounded almost genuinely crazed.

She pulled Luna along until they were in view of the grisly sight that was Mrs. Norris. She let out a strangled gasp, and Luna clutched her arm a little tighter. They saw Argus Filch the caretaker bustle through the crowd, getting as far out of the way as they could.

The girls watched with wide eyes and bated breath as Filch saw his cat and—there was no other word for it—freaked. He stared at her, demanding to know what had happened to her and who had done it.

His maddened shrieking could be likened to that of his cat when her tail was stepped on. Ashley had the…er…_pleasure_ of accidentally treading on the appendage a few weeks earlier. The cat was quite well-known as the peevish caretaker's only friend with four legs—his only friend at all. It was likely quite a blow to find his beloved pet hanging stiff and cold from a post in the wall.

He turned his eyes on Harry Potter, his least favorite student at the scene of the crime. He accused him of murdering Mrs. Norris, only to be interrupted by the apparently omniscient, omnipresent headmaster. However sure Dumbledore appeared to be, there was little hope that Mrs. Norris was anything other than stone-cold dead.

Dumbledore took Mrs. Norris from the post and swept out of the hall, leaving silence in his wake, and many uneasy looks being thrown at the wall and at the Malfoy children. Many of the other teachers, including Lockhart, Severus, and McGonagall, followed Filch, Dumbledore, Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger as they headed for Lockhart's nearby office. Ashley lifted her chin to prove to herself as much as anyone else that she wasn't intimidated by the crowd or the lettering.

The crowd started to disperse. Ashley pulled her arm out of Luna's, telling her to go on ahead. "I'll catch up later. Save me a seat by the fire if you can, it's cold tonight." She had seen her brother in the shadows as he stared almost blankly at the macabre message written on the wall in foot-high red letters. THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE. She stepped into the shadows next to Draco, leaning on the wall and watching him. He didn't even glance in her direction before he started to speak, his voice cool and collected.

"It's written in blood," he commented, his eyes still fixed on the writing. Mrs. Norris had been removed from the scene, but the writing was no less repugnant. "Or at least that's what the writer wanted us to think."

"Who would do something like this?" Ashley agreed.

He finally turned cold, dead eyes on her. "Do you really have to ask? Who do we know who thinks Muggleborns are scum?"

"Ray…" She knew who he meant, but there was no way he was here.

"Don't 'Ray' me, Ashley. You know he has to be behind this somehow."

"Just watch your step." She pulled him out of the shadows. "You can't hide forever." She traced the letters with her eyes. "Who did it, do you think? Lucius couldn't get in without someone noticing."

"I don't know, but they need to stop," Draco muttered rebelliously. "It was only a cat this time. What's next? They could kill someone—they did last time the Chamber was opened, remember what Father said?" He sighed. "They're playing with fire. It has to be a student, there's no one else who could. But…"

"Father said the Dark Lord was the Heir of Slytherin," Ashley muttered calculatingly. "He said there wasn't anyone else that could be traced as clearly back to Slytherin."

"Well, there must be someone, because the Dark Lord's dead."

"But remember what Papà said? He said the Dark Lord might not be dead, just hiding or out somewhere trying to gather his strength. He said he tried to break in to the school and steal the Philosopher's Stone last year, and…well, that sounds like he's trying to get his power back."

"Father said He opened it last time," Draco agreed. "Maybe he's doing it again somehow? Didn't Uncle Sev say Quirrell was possessed by the Dark Lord last year?"

"It's complicated," Ashley observed. "Just—just keep your eyes open, okay? Be careful? People might think you—or me—they might think we're doing it after your little outburst."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I was just trying to warn the Muggleborns," he whispered.

"Not so obviously next time, okay?" Ashley hissed back. "There's a seat in Ravenclaw with my name on it, so I'm going. The walls have ears," she added. Draco flapped a hand at her, and she left the corridor.

Sliding into her seat next to Luna in front of the fire, she tried to give her best friend a smile. "Sorry about that. Had to talk to my brother about manners," she lied. Luna nodded as vaguely as ever and looked at the fire, the flames reflected in her faraway gray eyes. "They're all talking about it," the blonde informed her friend.

"They would," Ashley sighed. She looked around the common room, seeing about two dozen of her Housemates holding copies of Hogwarts, A History, probably reading up on the Chamber of Secrets. "Do you believe me when I say I don't know who did it?"

"Well, of course I do," Luna said as matter-of-factly as she could. "I trust you. And you'd probably know if it were your brother," she added reflectively. "You're probably supposed to be the scapegoats," she said sagely. "Like in the Hindenelf conspiracy against flying magical creatures," she added. "Blaming someone else means it won't be traced back to you."

Ashley grinned. "Thanks Luna. You're the best."

"Likewise," Luna smiled and winked. Ashley laughed. Who said Luna Lovegood didn't act normal? Who wanted to be normal, anyway?

BREAK

At the first Quidditch game of the season, Ashley excitedly clutched Luna's blue-gloved hand. The other hand was quickly turning red with cold, but the eleven-year-old girl didn't seem to notice. She was squeezing her friend's hand back. She looked almost as excited, a bright orange hat pulled over her yellow hair and a lime-green scarf wrapped around her neck over her bottle cap necklace.

"I've never been to a Quidditch match," she said conversationally. The sky was dark and the air muggy. There was promise of rain in the air, and Ashley sighed inwardly, looking excitedly at her best friend.

"Draco's been talking about playing on his House team since he was five," she told the other girl. "It's too bad Father didn't trust him to get in on his talent," she added in a low voice, "but he's not a shabby player. He's better as a Chaser, though, my Mamà and my godfather both say so." She watched the sky as the players took to their brooms. She used the binoculars hanging from her neck to watch as Draco yelled something at Potter, the other Seeker, and gasped as a Bludger nearly knocked the latter off his broom.

"Quidditch is such an exhilarating game, don't you think?" Luna asked as the Bludger, knocked off course by half of the Weasley twins, swerved back towards Potter. "It must be such a rush to almost get a concussion," she continued in a vague fashion that might have been thought honest. Ashley knew she was criticizing the game.

"Shh, Luna, watch the Bludger, it's acting strangely," Ashley urged her friend, watching as the Bludger kept hounding at the dark-haired Seeker. Slytherin scored four times before it started to rain, and another two afterwards. Luna put up an umbrella, trying to keep the two girls as dry as possible. Ashley followed Potter, still dogged by the Bludger, with her eyes as he dodged and swerved, helped along by his two identical redheaded shadows. One of the twins paused momentarily in their quest against the Bludger to signal their captain for time-out, which the referee quickly called.

The Slytherin team and part of the crowd jeered at the Gryffindor team as soon as they were clustered together, to all appearances discussing the Bludger. Ashley trained her eyes on the red-and-gold-clad team, wishing she could hear their conversation. She might not have been very Quidditch-savvy, but there was something off about that Bludger.

Eventually, Madam Hooch convinced the team to resume play, and they took to the leaden, crying sky, Potter without his shadows as he danced away from the Bludger. Draco shouted at his opposition again—not noticing the flash of gold hovering inches above his left ear. Ashley shook her head. No wonder he was better with the Quaffle—it was bigger. Potter hung there—it was obvious he'd seen the elusive little ball—just long enough for the crazed Bludger to find him.

Ashley was sure she could hear the wham and crack from where she was sitting, and she was pretty sure he had a broken arm. It wouldn't make much difference if it weren't the arm he used to catch the Snitch, but…

Unfortunately for him, it was his right arm.

He swerved away from the Bludger's persisting attack, straight towards Draco. Ashley fiddled with the zoom on her binoculars in time to see Draco's huge eyes and worried face as Potter's fingers closed around the Snitch, his broom held only between his legs.

Ashley didn't even realize she was holding her breath for the cousin who didn't know she existed. His broom took a sharp downward turn, its owner obviously having lost control of the broom. He hit the mud with a splatter and surprisingly rolled off his broom, hopefully relatively unhurt. She saw his lips move slightly, her binoculars still trained on him as she noticed a crowd of Gryffindors storming the field. A brunet boy in her class snapping picture after picture excitedly, his best friends…

And Professor Gilderoy Lockhart.

_Great_, was Ashley's thought. She shifted her gaze to the Weasley twins, watching them wrestle with the Bludger, which was putting up a tremendous struggle, apparently not happy to be put in its box. There was a glow from Potter's arm a few minutes later, and it went limp and flat as Ashley watched in horror.

Ashley closed her eyes in exasperation. The idiot had removed his bones.

BREAK

Two days after the match, the word was out. Someone—or something—had Petrified Colin Creevey, the camera-loving exuberant Gryffindor in Ashley's year. It was now (at least for the first years) considered safest to dash around the castle in tight groups. No one wanted to be the next victim, pureblood or not.

The Gryffindor first-years came to class with eyes wide with shock and grief, amazed and frightened that one of their own was gone. Ginny Weasley would come into classes crying, and was sometimes followed through the halls by her brothers the Weasley twins (covered in fur or boils) trying to cheer her up.

There was a flurry of Muggleborns and half-bloods buying "good luck" or "protection" charms to keep them safe from whatever—or whoever—was prowling the school. The purebloods mostly did their level best to stay away from anyone with Muggle heritage, not wanting to be thought blood-traitors or in some other way worthy of attention from the Heir or Slytherin's monster. Ashley and Luna were shepherded to and from classes by Padma Patil and her friend Lillian Shacklebolt, both of whom would look worriedly down each corridor to make sure nothing sneaked up on them unawares.

Perhaps the most entertaining part of those few weeks was the visit to Severus Snape after the Petrification of Colin Creevey.

"I swear, Ashley, if I have to listen to that puffed-up blond _idiot_ tell us one more time how absolutely sure he is that the monster is a reasoning creature that simply needs to be taught a lesson…Or if he says one more time that he'll make sure Creevey and that _blasted_ cat are awake by Christmas when he knows perfectly well the Mandrakes are still maturing and won't be done until spring…If he makes one more comment about his hair or his fame, I will _break_ something!"

"On his head," Ashley had added helpfully, sipping from a cup of tea.

"Precisely!" the annoyed professor had ranted. "I can't for the _life_ of me understand why _that man_ hired him. He teaches you children nothing except not to become as self-satisfied as him—"

"It's a useful lesson for some of us," Draco had interrupted ruefully. "There are plenty of idiots who'd like nothing better than to be Gilderoy Lockhart."

Severus had rolled his eyes. "Thank heavens for you level-headed children."

Ashley was surprised to receive a letter from Lucius detailing that she was to remain at Hogwarts and stay out of trouble, or he would "be immediately informed". So, of course, when Flitwick (her Head of House) came around asking for names of those who'd be staying over the holidays, Ashley bemusedly signed the paper, grateful that Luna did as well.

"Daddy said he needs to go abroad for some research on Halley's Green Penguin Snatchers," she'd said coolly when Ashley asked if she wanted to return home for Christmas. "I do _so_ hope he'll have pictures to show when I go home," she added with a smile.

Draco and Blaise were both staying (as were, unfortunately, Draco's thuggish, idiotic acquaintances Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle), and Ashley spent time with them studying in the library when Luna was busy with new (or old) editions of the Quibbler.

It was rather amusing to hear Draco's heated tale of how someone had blown up Goyle's cauldron and caused his nose to grow to epic proportions. He was positive Harry Potter had lobbed the firework into his cauldron, an attempt at sabotage. Ashley laughed and asked what his motive would be. Draco, unable to think of an answer, just huffed at his sister and went back to his essay.

In the last week before the holidays began, Lockhart decided to start a dueling club. Draco convinced Ashley to join, who in turn convinced Luna to join as well. Draco confided to Ashley that Severus was going to duel Lockhart as part of the club, which only made her more eager to join. Lockhart deserved to get his reputation taken down a notch.

BREAK

At the first meeting of the dueling club, Ashley enthusiastically pulled Luna into a place right up close to the golden stage in the Great Hall. Luna yawned as she looked around at the crowd and asked Ashley very coolly, "Do you think anyone will get hurt?"

"I hope Lockhart does," Padma Patil muttered from behind them. "He deserves to have his arse handed to him," she added maliciously. Ashley giggled.

Lockhart glided onto the stage in flamboyant robes of deep plum. Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Gather round, gather round!" he called. "Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!" Funny how he wished to be sure everyone could see him first, Ashley thought wryly of the vain blond professor.

"Now," he began, "Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourself as I myself have done on countless occasions." He winked. "For full details, see my published works." _Since we all have a copy of them, he can tell us to read them whenever he wants,_ Ashley realized cynically. _It's all a big PR stunt for him, isn't it?_

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said grandly, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself—" Ashley snorted "—and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."

Ashley snorted again. "Will we have our Defense professor?" she whispered to Luna, who laughed. Severus gave Lockhart his best glare. Lockhart's manufactured smile didn't crack. They turned to face each other and bowed. Lockhart's extravagant bow (with much flourishing) was met with a curt nod from Severus and both brought their wands up. At least Lockhart knew procedure—Ashley would give that to him. Lockhart explained what was going on, and counted to three.

Before Lockhart could even throw a shield or some other sort of spell, Severus cried "_Expelliarmus!_" With a flash of red light, Lockhart was knocked off his feet and into the wall. Ashley giggled and gave Luna a triumphant glance, which she returned. They watched the man get unsteadily to his feet with a sort of unholy glee, noting the absence of his omnipresent hat and the way his hair was standing on end. He staggered back onto the platform.

"Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I've lost my wand—" Ashley snorted again. Obviously, since he was no longer holding it. "—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…" Lockhart let his false bravado trail off at Severus's murderous glare.

Ashley translated the look as "Stop talking, you imbecile, and do you what you were hired to do—teach!"

Lockhart seemed to be fluent in glares, as well, because he immediately said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me—"

They moved through the crowd, thankfully assigning Luna and Ashley together. But she heard her godfather assigning Potter to work with Draco and Granger to work with a girl named Millicent Bulstrode, who faintly resembled a troll.

Ashley faced Luna and both of them bowed, raising their wands. Lockhart counted to three again, but only reached two when spell-fire began to ring out. Ashley lost her wand to Luna and turned around to see her brother and Potter dueling much more seriously than just with _Expelliarmus_.

"Bloody Ray," she muttered. "But he wrecked Lockhart's lesson," she amended under her breath, causing Padma to laugh. Eventually, Severus set everything to rights with a Finite Incantatem. When the smoke lying around the Hall lifted, it revealed the slightly disastrous aftereffects of the duels.

Lockhart started a new lecture about blocking spells, calling up Neville Longbottom and Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff respectively. Severus disagreed, voice harsh, though, and called up Draco and Potter.

Lockhart tried to show Potter a way to block spells, but ended up dropping his wand. Severus whispered in Draco's ear, telling him what to do. Potter looked a little apprehensive.

Draco raised his wand when the countdown finished and yelled "_Serpensortia_!" maybe a little louder than necessary. A long black snake appeared and set its eyes on Potter. Lockhart, in yet another show of false bravado, flung the snake up ten feet and let it fall.

The snake, now furious, turned on Finch-Fletchley. Its fangs were bared, poised to strike, when suddenly Potter hissed something in Parseltongue—snake language.

The whole Hall went silent, and the snake went limp. Ashley reasoned that it must have been a call for the snake to stop, since nothing else would have had that same effect.

Finch-Fletchley didn't appear to agree, though, and yelled, "What do you think you're playing at?" before rushing out of the hall.

With that dramatic exit, the Hall broke out in whispers. "What do you think that was?" Padma muttered to Luna.

"He spoke Parseltongue," the girl stated. "He probably told the snake to leave off or something."

"Sure he did," Padma scoffed. Lillian Shacklebolt nodded.

"He was probably egging it on, trying to get it to bite that Hufflepuff. You know Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue."

"Well, yes, but so are other people," Luna reasoned. Lillian just shook her head.

"You just don't understand," she brushed the other girl off.

Ashley looked back up at the stage, a pensive look on her face as she watched the place where the snake had appeared and disappeared.

BREAK

Ashley was sitting in the library, finishing up some last-minute homework before the holidays after getting out of Defense Against the Dark Arts early. Lockhart had a hair malfunction that needed immediate attention. A crowd of Hufflepuff second-years bustled in, taking a seat at the back of the library. Ashley closed the Herbology text she was using to help her with an essay. The group wasn't working, but was talking rather loudly—loudly enough for Ashley to hear them.

"So anyway," Ernie Macmillan said pompously, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter that he was Muggleborn. Justin actually _told_ him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?" Ashley shook her head. When would these people realize that Potter's best friend Granger was a Muggleborn? They really were being obtuse.

"You definitely think it _is_ Potter, then, Ernie?" a girl named Hannah Abbott piped up, her blonde pigtails quivering along with the rest of her.

"Hannah, he's a Parselmouth," Macmillan said very solemnly. "Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard." _Because no one else wants to come out with it, or else they'll be thought Dark,_ Ashley reasoned. _It's not like they're going to accept a good Parselmouth with open arms. _"Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue." _And no one knows much about Slytherin anymore. He's just made out to be the estranged, Dark founder—there has to be another side to the story. Wait, why am I defending Slytherin—and Potter?_

"Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, beware." Oh, as if they really needed the reminder. Everyone knew. "Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Filch's cat's attacked. And that first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know—Creevey's been attacked."

_Creevey annoyed a lot of people in his quest for his pictures. And no one likes Filch. Their conspiracy theories are worse than the Quibbler's…_

"He always seems so nice, though," said Abbott unsurely, twisting a stray blonde hair around her finger, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?"

_Someone's showing some sense. Question his motive—why would Harry Potter want to kill Muggleborns? He hangs out with them._ Ashley had forgotten her Herbology work, instead wanting to focus on this interesting "lets-lay-blame" session. Hufflepuffs could be as good with misconceptions as Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

"No one knows how survived that attack by You-Know-Who," Macmillan said in an overly-dramatic low voice. Ashley leaned a little closer, curious. "I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened." _We don't need a retelling of the story. _"He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that." Ashley almost snorted. Potter, a Dark wizard? Macmillan had quite obviously never seen a true Dark wizard. Potter was altogether too straight-laced and open to be a Dark wizard. Macmillan's voice dropped again, to a near-whisper. Ashley leaned closer. "_That's _probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord _competing_ with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?"

_You think he knew he was a Parselmouth?_ Ashley shook her head. His shock at the dueling club when Finch-Fletchley had rushed off…that was not manufactured.

She stifled a laugh when Harry Potter himself appeared from behind a bookshelf, clearing his throat very loudly. "Hello," he said politely. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufflepuffs all looked horrified at Macmillan.

"What do want with him?" he said in a quavering voice that was probably supposed to be confrontational.

"I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club," Potter said, almost scolding.

"We were all there. We saw what happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?" Ashley nodded at Potter's back. Why could no one else see this?

"All I saw," a trembling Macmillan declared obstinately, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin." Their holier-than-thou act was getting very annoying. Ashley wished the pompous-faced, chubby Hufflepuff would shut his mouth.

"I didn't chase it at him!" Potter exclaimed angrily. "It didn't even touch him!" The "thank Merlin" on the end was heard but not said.

"It was a very near miss," said Macmillan nastily. "And, in case you're getting ideas," he added hurriedly, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone, so—"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" Potter interrupted, obviously seething. "Why would I want to attack Muggleborns?"

"I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with," Macmillan reasoned. Ashley raised an eyebrow. That was the best he could do? She hated Lucius, but that didn't mean she wanted to do away with purebloods. There are different kinds of Muggles just as there are different kinds of wizards.

"It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them," Potter returned. Ashley looked at him with interest. "I'd like to see you try it."

Fevered muttering arose from the Hufflepuff crowd as they watched Potter turn and leave. Ashley shook her head, took her books, and followed him out. She really didn't want to hear whatever they had to say now.

Idiocy in too large of quantities was annoying rather than amusing.

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It seemed the Malfoys, Luna, and Blaise were almost the only ones staying for Christmas. Of course, Crabbe and Goyle and the Golden Trio were staying, along with the Weasleys. But almost everyone else was heading home, spooked by the two attacks so far on unsuspecting student and cat.

This gave the Malfoys and Blaise time to talk to each other and spend time together without the pressures of normal school life. Severus would bring the three of them down to his quarters, where Blaise and Draco would play chess and Ashley would practice the piano. It was always amusing to listen to Severus's comments as he graded papers.

One such afternoon, on Christmas Eve, Draco turned to Severus and asked a question that had obviously been weighing on his mind. "Do you know much about the last time the Chamber was opened?" he asked. "I've only heard from Lucius that the Dark Lord is Slytherin's Heir, and the last time it was opened someone died."

"Well…since you asked…" Severus sighed and set aside the notes he had been working on. "You know it happened fifty years ago? Well, at that time, the Dark Lord was still a student here. The Chamber was opened and the beast within terrorized the school. They went so far as to suggest the school be shut down unless the attacks stopped. Rumor has it that Dippet talked to the Dark Lord—who lived at a Muggle orphanage at the time—and the boy asked to stay at Hogwarts for the summer. Dippet—he was the Headmaster at the time, and Dumbledore the Transfiguration teacher—apparently told the Dark Lord that he could not stay—and would be unable to return unless the attacks ceased. That very evening, Hagrid—a third-year at the time—was arrested and the attacks stopped."

"But there's no way Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin," Blaise protested. "He's a true Gryffindor—a lion through and through. It couldn't have been Hagrid."

"He was a perfect scapegoat, though," Severus reasoned. "He apparently brought dangerous animals into the school on a regular basis. There's a rumor he even raised werewolf cubs under his bed. I suspect the true force behind the attacks thought he would be believed if he accused such a student." The man leaned back in his chair. "Dumbledore has always been certain that the attacks were perpetrated by one Tom Riddle Jr."

"The Dark Lord," Draco stated.

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "Tom Riddle handed Hagrid in, earning himself an award for Special Services to the school and a pass for the rest of his school days. Who would dare question the boy who had saved the school?" His voice was bitter.

"Sounds like Potter," Blaise muttered.

Ashley looked up from the letter she was writing to her mother. "I imagine no one even noticed the total…er…how unlikely it was, Hagrid being the heir. Except for Dumbledore," she amended, "and perhaps Hagrid's friends. The Gryffindors would have been outraged that one of their people was trotted off to Azkaban."

"Doubtless," Severus agreed. "However, Albus says he was able to talk them out of sentencing Hagrid too harshly. He was expelled and brought back to Hogwarts to work under the caretaker at the time until he was old enough to be given the post of gamekeeper."

"And no one ever listened to his side of the story, right?"

"Hagrid is a half-giant—don't let on that you know. No one would believe him. Not that he's known to tell the truth anyway." Severus shrugged eloquently. "I suppose it's over now, though. Ashley, tell your mother hello and happy Christmas from me." Ashley nodded, her quill scratching. A few minutes later, she closed the book.

"Papà?" she asked. "Would it be all right if I practiced?" The man smiled slightly and nodded. Draco took out one of Blaise's pawns with an evil grin. Ashley straightened Blaise's sweater as she passed him, taking a seat at the piano Severus kept in his quarters simply for his godchildren and Narcissa. He had no idea how to play.

A sort of peace had descended on the group these holidays. Under no particular pressure from Lucius, the two Malfoys were having possibly the best Christmas season they could remember. Severus was glad to spend time with his godchildren, and Blaise was just happy not to have to go home to his mother and husband number five. It was exactly the calm and quiet that made the Christmas season so enjoyable.

Severus watched as Ashley played, throwing a look over her shoulder to Blaise and her brother. She started to sing along with the song quietly, smiling to herself. She was most at peace with things that reminded her of her mother—either one—and her family—the caring ones. Severus sighed. Narcissa, Ashley, and Draco…such different people.

Narcissa was still in part the very cheerful girl he had gone to Hogwarts with. She loved to smile, and was rather talkative once she was comfortable with whoever she was talking to. She was only withdrawn around her husband and his cronies, really. She was quite obviously more Cissa Black than Narcissa Malfoy. Her welcoming personality was hiding under a thin veneer of scared, submissive pureblood wife. One just had to know how to bring it out to see it jump into action.

Ashley was quiet, pensive. She liked to think before she said anything, but that didn't keep her from speaking her mind once in a while. She was very caring—her whole life centered around her few true friends and her family, and she loved all of them. She could be a little too withdrawn. She often refused to speak about subjects that troubled her, causing her to bottle it up only to have it explode when she least expected it. She was truly frightened of most of the world. She had to gauge someone before she would trust them. Slowly, though, with the aid of her family and friends, and the continued contact with the Hogwarts student body, she was becoming more and more open and less and less a puppet manned by Lucius.

Draco was bitter. He was, and nothing would really change it. He was incredibly wary, but also incredibly good at playing his part. He walked, talked, and oozed old blood, old money, and ancient snobbery. He could be the ruthless leader his father wanted him to be. But the other side of Draco was tense with strangers, unsure of himself. He trusted no one to treat him right, only his mother, his sister, his godfather, and his best friend. He was closer to his sister than anyone else, with the exception, perhaps, of his mother, but he was sarcastic, cold, and sometimes rash. The care of his family in the face of Lucius's abuse only served to make him more harsh, knowing that he would never receive the same care from his father.

Severus turned back to his notes. They were his family—all that he had. His Muggle father, who had despised him anyway, had been killed by Voldemort, and his mother had been killed by his father. But no matter. He had a family.

True, a rather mismatched, dysfunctional family it was. A kidnapped daughter of a dead Auror and a convicted murderer, a pureblood heir with no desire for the title, a Death Eater's wife who had been best friends with two Muggleborns at Hogwarts, and a half-blood spy of a Death Eater. And, if he were to be fair, a pureblood son of a woman with four deceased husbands to date. One of them couldn't be with the rest of them very often, and another was almost a permanent resident at a house not his own.

Severus sighed inwardly. Sure, they were mismatched and often separated, but they were a family, and they stood strong in the face of all that come at them so far, and would continue to do so.

He scribbled something on his notes, listening to Blaise and Draco join Ashley's singing, still playing chess and absently joining in. Severus hummed as he thought about the experimental potion he was working on.

Life was as close to good as it had ever been.

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**A/N 2:** Betcha weren't expecting another update so soon. I'm on a roll! Oh, and anything you recognize isn't mine, it belongs to J.K.R. and it comes from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Double disclaimer, huh?

I was trying for some character development in that last bit. Review and tell me what you thought! E-brownies to all reviewers!

Much love,

LysPotter


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